Pokemon Control (DRAFT, 13+)

Chapter 8: Kick Ass!

Grayson's reaction bordered on incredulity, his palm crashing against his forehead before tracing a slow, exasperated descent down his face. A heavy sigh escaped him, his irritation palpable. "Are you-Are you genuinely serious?" he quizzed, his hand finally lowering to reveal a mixture of disbelief and frustration etched onto his features. "This should've been brought to my attention much earlier, shouldn't it?"

"Better late than never, I suppose... Besides, I forgor," Jamie replied with a carefree shrug, her tone marked by casual indifference. "How in the world did you manage to forget you were Pokémon-less when you signed up?" Grayson's voice escalated in both pitch and intensity, a veil of frustration veiling his words, although an underlying hint of expectancy underscored his tone, as if he half-anticipated her response.

"Very well," Grayson exhaled in resignation, his breath heavy with the weight of the situation. Delving into the recesses of his attire, he retrieved a Pokéball, his fingers curling around it before extending it toward Jamie. "Consider yourself lucky; I happen to have a spare Pokemon on hand," he remarked, his voice laced with a tinge of concession. A measured step brought him closer to Jamie, the Pokéball transferring ownership with the subtle exchange of hands. "It's now yours, though it's almost uncanny how fitting the two of you are," he mumbled sotto voce, his words trailing off into a relieved exhalation as he resumed his stance, fingers sliding back into his pockets.

"Woah..." Jamie's gaze remained locked onto the Pokéball, an expression of sheer wonder painting her features. Her fingers curled around the object, her grip firm yet tinged with a sense of newfound excitement. A broad smile unfurled across her face, her amusement contagious. "My mother never allowed me to have any Pokemon before..." she confided, her tone a mixture of incredulity and exhilaration. "This? This is going to be lit!" The words carried an unmistakable enthusiasm, her fingers tightening around the Pokéball as if already forging a connection.

"Wait a minute... You're telling me you joined without a Pokemon?" Tyler's query sliced through the air, laden with a mixture of intrigue and disbelief. His gaze pivoted, fixated on the Pokéball that now occupied Jamie's hand, an expression of bemusement etching itself onto his face.

A bout of awkward laughter erupted from Jamie, accompanied by the graceful twirl of her hair as her fingers toyed with the strands. "Well, you seeeee," she began with a wry grin, her voice threaded with self-amusement, "I might have kinda sorta forgotten...?" The last syllables floated off her lips, enveloped in the nonchalant shrug that punctuated her admission.

Tyler's head tilted fractionally, his eyes narrowing in contemplation as he trained them upon Jamie. A flicker of bemusement played across his features before giving way to a light chuckle. "Yeah, it happens," he mused, his smile mirroring hers as camaraderie formed a bridge between them.

Grayson's lips parted, as if to initiate a question, only to be interrupted by the sheer magnitude of his companions' collective obliviousness. A subdued shake of his head served as a precursor to a resounding facepalm, his hand meeting his forehead with a faint slap. "At this point, I've given up finding any braincells in those heads of yours," he declared, the muffled exasperation lingering in his voice.

A hearty chuckle erupted from Jamie's lips, punctuating the weighty atmosphere with an infectious mirth. Her fingers remained firmly clasped around the Pokéball, now imbued with newfound significance. "Well, now that both of us are equipped with Pokémon," she began, her smile widening as she drew nearer to Tyler, enveloping him within the circle of her arms. Her other arm came into play, wiping at her nose with a nonchalant gesture. "You and me, Tyler, battle, now."

"Battle?" Tyler questioned, his gaze momentarily darting toward his own pocket, where Charmander's Pokéball resided. His grin, however, indicated his readiness as he clenched his fist and executed a mock punch into the air. "Oh, you're on! Are we allowing low blows, or..."